


In Dealing

by CalicoPudding



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, Family, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoPudding/pseuds/CalicoPudding
Summary: Caleb shoots awake, suddenly sitting straight up, heart in his throat and a high pitched whine in his ears. There’s a firestorm raging in his head and he hunches over, clutching his head in his hands. He knows he’s breathing too fast, but he’s long since practiced doing this part silently. For a moment, he forgets where he is.





	In Dealing

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick short, I wanted to explore some characters, and I love Caleb so I went this route. Since the forehead kiss with Molly I wanted to try and write how the rest of the party might handle something similar. Basically I just want Caleb to have a good support system.

Caleb shoots awake, suddenly sitting straight up, heart in his throat and a high pitched whine in his ears. There’s a firestorm raging in his head and he hunches over, clutching his head in his hands. He knows he’s breathing too fast, but he’s long since practiced doing this part silently. For a moment, he forgets where he is. 

The open woods.

His new party members.

Nott.

He looks to his side where the small goblin is curled up. She’s still asleep, breathing deeply and soundly with Frumpkin sleeping on top of her. That alone is enough to calm him down some but not completely. 

“You all right there, Caleb?”

Caleb’s head snaps up, eyes meeting the slightly glowing gaze belonging to Fjord.

He tries to respond, to say that everything’s fine, sorry for disturbing you. But nothing comes out. He moves his mouth, forces the air from his lungs.

Nothing. 

Caleb drops his head again and draws in a shaky breath.

Fjord is on watch tonight, everyone else is asleep, undisturbed by Caleb’s sudden awakening. Fjord probably saw him from the start, the panicked movement, looking for Nott.

Shit.

There’s a shift and Fjord is suddenly much closer, not alarmingly so, but closer than he was previous. He doesn’t encroach on Caleb’s space, just sits beside him and holds out a waterskin.

“It’s just water, take a drink, it’ll help you calm down.”

Hands shaky, Caleb accepts the skin and does as asked. It helps a little bit. He passes the skin back, avoiding Fjord’s worried gaze. 

“Thank you,” he manages, those two small words raspy and broken.

“Of course,” Fjord says. “Caleb? I won’t make you talk about it if it’s upsetting to you, but are you okay?”

Caleb remembers Fjord, just a short time ago, waking and coughing up sea water, saying he had a dream. He may have some kind of idea, but it’s not something Caleb wants to explore, not right now anyway.

“I’m fine,” he says.

The look on Fjord’s face says he absolutely doesn’t believe it, but that’s not Caleb’s biggest concern right now. He settles into the most comfortable position he can, double checking that Nott is still asleep, and that his belongings are undisturbed.

Fjord makes a little humming noise, but he doesn’t move from his spot, instead, he starts talking. 

His voice is quiet, so as not to wake the others, but it does nothing to detract from his words. He talks about his time at sea, about the quiet days where the mood was light. He talks about the sea breeze, and the sights he’s seen. He talks about how, when he stopped sailing, it took him a while to get used to dry land again. 

Caleb knows exactly what he’s doing, but he doesn’t fight the sleep that comes, heralded by the soft stories that Fjord is providing him.

* * *

He hates that they decided to split up. It wouldn’t be as bad if Nott were with him, but she’s with Fjord. Caleb is with Jester and he’s trying to make the most of it. Nothing against the overly excitable tiefling, he’d just feel better if Nott were with him.

He clutches Frumpkin as close as he can without upsetting the cat, but he can’t get to sleep. 

He and Jester were the first ones back, and they have no way to contact the others. They all had separate objectives, and they’re supposed to regroup at the inn. They’re in Fjord and Mollymauk’s room, Jester told him she didn’t want to be alone while they were waiting, so they figured this was the best place to set up. Caleb is exhausted, spells spent and body bleeding until recently. He and Jester managed by the skin of their teeth.

He  _ needs _ to sleep, but he can’t get his body to calm down enough. Every time he starts to drift images come to his mind unbidden.

What if something went wrong? What if Nott gets hurt? If any of them get hurt. They’d sent Jester with Caleb because of how easily he drops during battle. This of course left the rest of them without a cleric. Gods, what if something happens? Nott has a healing potion, and Beauregard’s a monk, they can do things, right?

“Caleb?” Jester doesn’t bother whispering. She’s sitting at the foot of the bed, sketching in her journal while Caleb’s lying down.

“What is it?”

“Do you want help falling asleep?”

“What?”

“I can see that you’re trying but your face is doing that pinchy thing it does when you’re thinking too much. I can wake you up when the others get back, but you really should get some sleep.”

“What do you have in mind, exactly?”

“Well,” Jester starts, tossing her journal aside, “my mother used to sing me this song whenever I had a nightmare, I could sing it for you if you want?”

There’s something in Jester’s tone that leads him to believe she’s not just offering for him, but he’s okay with that.

“Sure,” Caleb mutters, hiding his face in Frumpkin’s fur.

“Great! I’m sure you’ll love it, I did.”

Jester doesn’t stay put, bodily moving Caleb so she can get at his hair unimpeded.

“What are you-”

“Hush.”

Jester finger combs through his hair for a while before he feels the familiar motions of her braiding small sections. He doesn’t have the energy to fight her on this, and he’s not particularly uncomfortable.

When Jester starts singing, it’s a strange disconnect. It doesn’t match up with her usual speaking voice, and her tone lacks its usual bubbly factor. It’s actually quite pleasant, maybe a little inconsistent. It’s not in Infernal, which is what he’d expected, but another language that he can’t place. 

Between the low notes of Jester’s singing voice and the gentle tugs at his hair, Caleb finds the tension draining from his body. 

When he closes his eyes, there's no flash of fire, no bodies strewn about, nothing to cause him worry. All he imagines is riding in the cart at night, a chill breeze in the air while Mollymauk and Beauregard bicker back and forth.

It's nice.

* * *

He doesn't startle awake, his body practically while his brain moves all too fast. The smell of campfire smoke still lingers in the air, that's probably what did it. He’s supposed to be on watch, he’s stayed awake through the night before, why can’t he now?

Caleb sits back, wincing as his back and neck twinge. He lines himself up with the tree that he and Yasha had set themselves against and sighs. 

Yasha raises a brow at him but doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m fine,” he says, rubbing his face. He’s just smearing dirt around but he doesn’t care. 

“I’m not one to pry,” Yasha says simply. 

“Sorry I fell asleep.”

Yasha shrugs, uncrossing her arms and letting her hands rest on her thighs. 

Despite the apology, Caleb drifts off again a few minutes later. 

This time, however, he doesn’t wake quiety. He jerks, rather violently, away from the tree.

He draws his legs up and wraps his arms around them, bowing his head to his knees. Everything feels too tight, too hot, he can’t organize his thoughts. 

There’s a hand on his back, right between his shoulders and he startles before he recognizes the hand as Yasha’s. It’s a fairly heavy pressure against him and his body stills, one last shaky exhale slipping through his lips. 

There’s a pause before Yasha’s hand starts making small circles, alternating pressure from the butt of her palm to her fingers. Caleb stays hunched forward but his body relaxes in miniscule increments.

It’s oddly soothing, and adding to the fact that this is  _ Yasha _ , he feels lucky. Yasha doesn’t like contact, save for Mollymauk apparently, yet she’s doing this for him. 

She keeps up the ministrations until Caleb starts to sit up. 

“Molly,” she says, “he, uh, he would do this at the circus, not to me but whenever somebody was...feeling off, you could say. I thought it could work here.”

“It did.”

“Good. Go back to sleep if you can, I can finish the watch.”

Caleb doesn’t give her an answer, just leans forward to rest his forehead against his knees. After a few moments, Yasha’s hand finds its way to Caleb’s back once more. The movements are less heavy, but there’s just enough weight to keep Caleb anchored. 

He doesn’t fall back asleep, but he finds himself at peace.

* * *

Caleb volunteers for the first watch, intent on staying awake this night. The last time he slept, he woke up with his face too close to the dying fire pit, having moved in his sleep. How nobody noticed was beyond him, they were all asleep, Jester was supposed to be on watch but she was snoring softly with Nott at her side. Caleb usually settles his bedroll as far away from the firepit as he can manage without drawing too much attention to himself.

It’s ridiculous. 

But he takes first watch, wringing his hands together to keep him awake. 

They’re all on the mend, Jester having taken care of the worst of it. Mollymauk’s been in mourning over a chipped horn, as opposed to the two poisoned crossbow bolts he took to the chest. Fjord will be boasting new, dramatic battle scars once the wounds close up. Jester spent a good chunk of time, once expending all her spells to fix them up some, sewing up some tears in Nott’s clothes, even offering to do the same for Caleb’s coat. Beauregard went to sleep the moment she was vaguely horizontal.

Nothing had put him at ease, though Nott tried her best. Between his apparent sleepwalking and the most recent battle, Caleb doesn’t want to so much as close his eyes for more than a second or two.

One by one, his companions fall asleep.

With his nerves alight, he finds himself in a state of hyper awareness. Every breeze, every rustling leaf, Caleb misses none of it. So, he knows exactly the moment that Beauregard wakes for her turn on watch. He was supposed to wake her, but they’ve found out that the monk operates on some kind of internal clock, which makes it easier for the rest of them. 

“Anything?” she asks him, voice barely above a whisper but it still carries all the way to Caleb’s ears.

“Nothing.”

She shrugs and moves toward him, making a shooing motion but he stays put.

“Hey, Caleb, I got this, go to sleep.”

“I’m going to stay awake a little longer.”

He knows she’s scanning him up and down. He’s shaking, his hands wringing together uncomfortably tight while his gaze is fixed straight ahead. Beauregard’s good at reading people, he knows this by now, he’s just hoping she’ll let it go for once. 

She sits down, not quite in his space but not out of it. 

“Cool, team human on watch tonight,” she says, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t know why they let us do this shit, we can’t see.”

“You have your goggles, don’t you?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth all Caleb can see is the burning priest. He wrings his hands tighter, clenching his jaw.

Beauregard notices, most definitely, but continues on as if nothing’s changed.

“I mean, yeah, but if I wear ‘em too long I get a headache, ‘sides, my ears work, I can use those.”

Beauregard pulls him from topic to topic, jumping from how he should learn to use a weapon to why he lets Jester braid his hair. It’s strange. When it’s time for Mollymauk’s watch shift, most of the tension is gone from his body.

“You staying up?” Beau asks.

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay then, I’ll get Mr. Fancypants up.” She punches his shoulder before rocking up onto her feet. 

And the night is quiet once more.

* * *

Nott is nowhere in sight, neither is anyone else, not completely. A flash of blue blurs by before vanishing and Caleb can barely call for Jester before another blur moves past him. This one large, obviously Fjord, but he disappears in the smoke.

He’s in an open field, dry grass beneath him. He’s too hot, sweat making tracks through the dirt and grime on his face. The sky is red and dark, the sun blotted out by terrible plumes of black smoke. Screams ring through the air and Caleb drops to his knees, clutching his head. 

He has to find Nott, she’s capable but he needs to make sure she’s okay. He stumbles to his feet and chooses a direction. The moment he takes a step, a column of fire erupts around him, tendrils of fire reaching out to curl around his body. 

Of its own accord, one of his hands rises, the skin blackening and crackling as fire of his own begins to build. 

Then he’s awake, dripping sweat and choking as he breathes, but he’s awake. He can’t move his head for some reason, something’s holding him in place. He touches the ground around him, finding only his bedroll atop cool stone. He stutters in another breath and his vision swims into focus. 

It’s Mollymauk holding his head in place.

“There we are,” he says, loosening his hold but still keeping Caleb’s face in his hands. “I’ll admit, I was a little worried you wouldn’t snap out of it.”

Mollymauk’s voice is low, gentle, deliberately paced to emit calm. Just as it was the last time, Mollymauk kisses his forehead before sitting back, letting go of his face.

“Do you remember where you are?” he asks.

Caleb looks around, piecing together his surroundings. 

Rain is coming down in waves outside, he and Mollymauk are in a cave. The two of them following a lead, only to get stuck due to the abysmal weather.

“Yes.”

“And you remember what’s happened?”

“Nothing?”

“Correct.”

Caleb manages to take a breath without issue and curls up tight, moving until his back is flush with the wall. Mollymauk moves to sit beside him, fixing him with an easy look.

“Everything okay? That was a pretty rude awakening.”

“Just a bad dream.”

“Ah, I figured as much.”

Caleb can tell, Mollymauk knows what he’s talking about, either because the tiefling has accurate intuition, or because he’s experienced something similar. Either way, Caleb leans his head on Mollymauk’s shoulder and sighs. 

“My apologies if I woke you.”

Mollymauk just chuckles.

“No need for apologies. Here, ease forward.”

Caleb does as instructed, thinking back to Yasha as one of Mollymauk’s hands settle at his back. Unlike Yasha though, Mollymauk ues light scritching motions intermingled with broad strokes of his hand up and down Caleb’s back. It has the same effect, so Caleb doesn’t mind. 

“I take it you don’t want to sleep.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Very well.”

Thought Mollymauk continues with his hand on Caleb’s back, he starts regaling his Caleb with stories from the circus. Caleb’s not sure if any of them are true, but Mollymauk speaks with conviction.

There are enough stories to last until the rain stops, and once it does, Mollymauk ruffles Caleb’s hair and pulls him to his feet.

* * *

“Caleb? Caleb, wake up.”

Something shakes him to consciousness and Caleb’s eyes open slowly. Immediately in his field of vision is Nott, eyes practically glowing in the night though her brows are furrowed in worry.

There’s something heavy in his heart, and something tight holding his lungs. Worses still is the cold chill that doesn’t seem to be going away, and the prickling sensation at the base of his skull. He pushes himself to sit up, wincing as he does so.

“Nott?”

“You were crying, and-and Frumpkin was worried,” she says, pulling the cat from his sleeping place near the foot of the bed and plopping him in Caleb’s lap. “You shouldn’t worry cats, it’s not good for them. Besides that, you never  _ cry _ in your sleep, you- you’ve screamed before, I remember that, but you’ve never cried. What happened?”

The worry is still evident in her features, her fingers worrying at the sloppy braid Caleb had wrangled her hair into before they went to bed. 

Caleb brings his hands to his face, surprised to find his cheeks wet. Nott said he was crying but he can’t remember anything, just a swirl of black, the dream already gone when she woke him up. 

“I’m fine, Nott, I promise.”

The look she gives him makes it clear that she doesn’t believe him. 

She scurries to the edge of the bed and pulls her pouch from beneath it, rifling through its contents. Caleb takes to petting Frumpkin while he waits, knowing it might be a while until Nott finds what she’s looking for. She’s made up a good portion of her collection since having to start over. Amidst the buttons and rings, she’d graduated to stealing necklaces and, once, managed to take an earring without being noticed.

He’s proud. 

The ache remains in his chest when Nott triumphantly pulls a necklace from the pouch. It’s a black leather cord, with a hoop charm. There are runes, ones that Caleb doesn’t recognize, along the outside of the hoop, and the inside is nearly filled with innumerable lines of thread. The way it’s set up provides a solid platform save for a single hole in the very center. 

“I took it off Molly,” Nott says, a smile twitching at her lips. 

“Nott, we-”

“I heard him say it keeps away bad dreams, plus he has another one, so I figured you could use it but I didn’t want to ask because that would be  _ boring _ and besides-” She mumbles something that Caleb doesn’t catch before moving forward to lay the cord over his head, adjusting it around his neck. The hoop hangs to just below his solar plexus and he resists the urge to touch the threaded center. 

The ache beings to fade.

“I- thank you, Nott,” Caleb says.

“Of course.”

“You’ll have to do something nice for Mollymauk now, since you took this.”

Nott waves her hands in a flippant manner.

“I already did, I knew you were gonna say that! I gave him a ring, ‘course it was too small for his fingers, so I put it on a chain and hung it on one of his horns. He said thank you when he saw it.”

She cross her arms and grins, waiting for approval.

Caleb gives it in the form of a hair tussel, messing up the braid even further but he doesn’t think Nott minds.

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, voice small compared to only moments ago.

“I do, yes.”

And he’s telling the truth. Though the prickling hasn’t gone away, he doesn’t feel like his body is going to cave in on itself, and he doesn’t feel as though he’ll be lost to darkness when he closes his eyes. 

“Good, now, go to bed!”

She waits for him to lay down, holding a clearly exasperated Frumpkin in her lap until he’s settled. She curls up next to him, face buried in Frumpkin’s fur but with one curled into Caleb’s shirt sleeve. 

He doesn’t fall asleep for a couple hours, not for fear of nightmares, but because he feels okay and he’d like to keep feeling it for a while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I love my dirty wizard man so much


End file.
